Finding Hope
by FashionPixie89
Summary: Twilight rewritten in Alice and Jasper's POV from the beginning of their time as vampires up until prom.We do not own the characters, the facts and dates are Stephenie Meyers. We simply wrote them out in more detail! Collaboration with Sewwychristine.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue  
**_

_August 17__th__, 1920  
My dearest Mary-Alice,_

_As I ponder the events that led me to my drastic decision, I reflect on the fact that you are no longer amongst us. You are caught somewhere between the center of the earth and the fires of hell, waiting to awake into a new world. A world I have forced upon you without consultation or permission. For this, I truly apologize._

_The two years, in which I have spent my days tending to you, I grew a large fascination. The way your mind works is positively remarkable. Much more complex than any patient I had the pleasure of treating. Though many before me have avoided your case, believing the prognosis of your talent to be death, I placed it upon myself to insure death did not find you. Taking this oath is what led me to introduce you to my world._

_You may or may not remember upon waking, Alice, so I will continue to write in a vain hope this letter will bring you the closure you will so desperately seek in the future._

_You were born as Ms. Mary Alice Brandon in Biloxi, Mississippi in 1901 and you died in Biloxi, Mississippi as Ms. Mary Alice Brandon in 1920 at the tender age of nineteen. Your ability to host premonitions within your mind did not go unnoticed. According to statements taken by both your mother and your father, they had been going on for quite some time. At first it was believed you were simply a child that adored telling stories, though those opinions soon changed._

_Our records have statements from your parents indicating you predicted a mine collapse, an incident that would kill many people upon occurring. That morning, that same event unraveled which killed and frightened many people._

_There was talk about burning you at the stake, much like in the older days, though not even your parents could bring themselves to witness such a thing. Instead they had you institutionalized here in our care, in hopes that we could cure or prevent these glimpses from occurring._

_We had tried many different courses of action. We kept your head shaved for the countless electric shock therapy sessions, though none worked. These sessions may have been the cause of your later inability to respond or remember specifics; I only hope that doesn't continue into your next life. Had I known those treatments would have been a waste on you, I assure you I wouldn't have bothered. I do apologize that I could not give you enough time to grow back your longer style, though perhaps change is for the better._

_Countless doctors had examined your case, though the brief flashes were unstoppable. To them, it was a curse by the devil himself. They believed only God was to see the future before it happened, and that a child bending the will of the Lord would surely rot in hell for all of eternity. I, myself, saw this unique ability as a rarity in the purist form. One I thought must be protected._

_Unfortunately, my biased views on your case did not bode well with the other doctors in the institute. My allowed time to treat you was reduced drastically, which I could not apologize more for. Perhaps if I had argued my case stronger, louder than I had... Perhaps if I had found something, anything to aide you, I wouldn't have had to leave you for such long periods of time. The darkness that single, padded cell offered chilled even me to the bone. The loneliness you must have felt... After a while, my visits... my company went unnoticed. You no longer responded to any sort of communication. Any touch, any noise went unnoticed. You were simply gone._

_Despite my failure to keep you in perfect condition, I still felt obligated by my personal oath to continue watching out for you. When I heard that the gossip of your talent reached one of my own, I felt repulsed. Rumor that your blood sang to him, begged him to taste reached me just as quickly. Knowing something as lethal and dangerous as me was willingly hunting you, knowing what that beast was capable of... I refused to let that happen._

_Your unresponsive state made the task much simpler, though it did not stop my longing to continue, to kill you. Your blood was of the finest quality that I have experienced in my old age. My dedication to you is what saved your life in the end. Because of you, I had found strength inside of me that I hadn't known existed up until this point. I will be eternally grateful to you, Alice, for giving me this knowledge._

_Upon making the decision to save your life by taking it, I will be resigning here at the institution. I beg you do not try and locate me, for everything I have to say is in this letter. I would bring you no more closer than I'm able to with my written words, nor can I offer you anything greater than what you have after waking. Should you ignore my warning, please know that I may very well lose my own life should the hunter know I was responsible for taking you from him. My life is something I am more than willing to sacrifice to insure yours remained vibrant, even if it's in a world as dark as this._

_Upon waking into this new and exquisite world, I hope your longing to know the truth about your transition overpowers your need for destruction. I pray the innocence you acquired as a human has been passed on into your new life and that you cherish it with every fiber of your being, my child. I beg you to forgive me, in your own time, for the choices I have made and the consequences you will surely have to face because of my selfish state. The only thing I ask of you,Mary-Alice, is to remember these words. Remember that you were loved, and will always be loved._

_I wish you all the best, and success in the years to come._

_Sincerely,  
Dr. Richard Kinsley_

_***_

I set my quill down on the desk I currently occupied, the softest of sighs escaping my lips. By morning, or perhaps a little later than that, I would be a father of sorts. Mary-Alice will wake up and know that somebody cared for her enough to give her an eternal gift.

I neatly folded the piece of paper I had written my words to the precious girl on, placing it into a single off-white envelope. I had let the wax warm well before I finished the letter, allowing me to seal it instantly. The wax seal bore the institutions logo; perhaps this would jog her memory upon waking. I wasn't sure where to place the letter; surely leaving it in Mary-Alice's file would only lead to someone else stumbling across it. I couldn't risk our secret like that, so instead I would hide it away in hopes one of her premonitions would someday lead her in search of it.

I blew out the candle I had been using for lighting, standing up from the old chair I had been using while writing. The hospital was silent, dark and deserted for the evening. Something I cherished during my late hours of work.

I could smell him well before I looked up to unwillingly greet him with my eyes. I had been warned by countless of my kind that he would come here in search of Mary-Alice. The wicked grin he wore on his lips, the desire for destruction danced in his eyes. Informing me that he had figured me out, he knew that Mary-Alice was gone. He had lost.

I didn't have time to react to what happened. I doubted I would have begged for my life, for many state with every birth comes a death. My existence for my 'daughter' seemed perfectly logical to me.

So I accepted the flames without a scream.


	2. Beginnings

_**Authors Note:**_

Hello my pretties!

_Just a bit of a note before you continue reading this. The following story is the entire Twilight book written in Jasper and Alice's perspective, starting from the time Alice woke up as a vampire, and Jasper was with Maria. I (Kimberlee-Shantel) will be writing in Alice's perspective while Sarah (Sewwychristine) will be writing in Jasper's._

_We do not own the characters or any of the dates/plots mentioned in the story. They belong to Stephenie Meyer. We just elaborated and put them into greater detail for your enjoyment._

* * *

_**  
**_**Chapter 1  
Beginnings**

My eyes were still closed, my body writhing on the cold and wet concrete beneath me, although I paid no attention to that. Every fibre of my being burned as if it were engulfed in flames. As if hell wasn't enough, God took it upon himself to find and unleash the cruelest of all punishments onto me.

I couldn't physically pinpoint just one specific limb or bone or muscle that seared with pain: The entirety of me stung in absolute agony, and despite my constant prayers, God seemed to find me unworthy of such a blessing. Every last millimetre of me was being stabbed, boiled and skinned alive, all at precisely the same time. Each nerve ending fired so rapidly that my muscles convulsed uncontrollably, shaking my body so hard that seemingly every particle in my body, right down to my individual skin cells, vibrated in unbearable and unstoppable torture. I could feel it coursing through my veins, my rapid heartbeats pumping it further, quicker into my body from the tips of my toes to the ends of each strand of hair.

I found myself unable to call out in distress, unable to alert anybody to my position in the dark alley I could only assume I had been left in. The feel of the humid air I breathed, the scent that came with each pinching gasp, lead me to believe that an alleyway was the only logical answer to where I had been discarded, thrown here to rot just like the trash that seemed to surround me. I'd been left to whatever demons were tearing me apart, my remains surely scattered for the sewer rats to finish off. The perfect ending to someone like myself, who was so clearly controlled by something as evil as the Devil himself.

I was unable to move, not even to open my eyes and see the cause of the invisible maiming that continued to burn me alive. The only screams I was able to elicit were in my mind, deafening me.

Through my internal screams, I caught a glimpse of the fire that begged to consume me. Raging in anger; licking at torn body parts; scattered like crackling logs. In my hazed state, I took notice to an unfamiliar man with long hair, pulled back off his shoulders. A piece of white stationery in his hands, a maniacal laugh escaping his lips as he tossed it into the growing fire, before the image disappeared.

I wasn't sure if I had actually seen such a thing, if it was the true cause of my inexplicable discomfort or if it was a figment of my imagination. My mind willing me to see what my body has been longing to understand: A cause for my pain. Either way, it was something I never saw, let alone remembered after it departed.

In a failing attempt to remove my mind from the consistent abuse being inflicted upon me, I had begun to count the seconds, the minutes, and the hours that seemed to pass. Each tick of the clock within my mind was nothing more than a soft whimper, begging the heavens and the hells to put me out of my misery once and for all.

I was amazed at how aware I was of everything around me. The people scurrying about on the street a good yard from where I lay. The rumbling in the clouds over head as they began to drop countless raindrops onto my exposed body, each one practically unnoticed in comparison to the immense pain I was still having inflicted onto me. The laughter, the shouting, the everyday noises continued to flow by. Life continued to go on, though none of it was distraction enough to tear my mind away from the horrid sensation. I was damned.

Two hundred, fifty-nine thousand and two hundred seconds passed in total. Three entire days of mind numbing and paralyzing agony – something I assumed was one of the many tortures of the devil. For the first time in those agonizing seventy-two hours, I felt the pain change, dim, fade. I felt the coursing flames in my veins end their continuous journey, I felt my heart give in and my breathing relax. I felt the cold settle in, though in a comfortable fashion.

I felt my muscles and my skin tighten; firming in what I assumed was defense against the pain they had fallen victim to. I was able to feel and count each individual ran drop that splashed against my flesh. All of the sounds that had been occurring around me, all of the scents lingering near washed over me like never before.

I allowed my eyes to flicker open, though I didn't have the chance to admire my heightened eyesight. Instead I was plagued with another form of torture, though this one was in my mind alone.

I saw a beautiful young female, walking down a crowded street. The most gorgeous of pearls hanging off her exposed neck. Her hair was pinned up, a smile on her face as she continued on with her everyday tasks. My mind flickered like a candle, darkening before flashing to the next image. The same young woman drenched in a red substance. Blood. In this vision, I stood over her with the same liquid coating my mouth, a demonic smile painted across my lips.

To my left stood one of the most attractive men I had the pleasure of witnessing. The vision was so vivid and real; his skin was the palest of ivories, looking as smooth as fine marble. He tipped his flat cap in greeting to my presence, and at that moment I swore that I could have counted each shade of blond that made up his hair while I stood there, had I known the beautiful image would have lasted long enough. Perhaps I had already begun doing just that, for I hadn't paid the slightest attention to the scenery changing from a dark alley way to a small cafe. Instead, I caught onto the vaguest of glimpses. Glimpses of the blood around us and glimpses of his head lifting back up, his red eyes peering down into mine. My body trembled in the fear the horrible images were creating in me: The devil himself staring at me through my mind before everything faded and I was left staring blankly at the wet brick wall in front of me.

My entire body was tingling from the aftermath of both the physical pain and the mental images, my eyes staying glued on the brick wall. From my position on the other side of the alley, I could clearly see each single dew drop, each crevice in the stone creating the walls. The practically invisible specks of dirt that floated harmlessly in the air, things that the average human was not meant to view with their own eyes. I put it down to the Lord's judgment and his unknown reasons to torture me further.

My head snapped violently to the side upon hearing a stirring beside me, sounding like the highly distracting sound of the shuffling of feet against the roadside. Not a soul was within hearing range of where I sat, not even the common mouse.

The sound persisted, my attention focused solely on locating the cause in some vain attempt to retain what little sanity I had left. With my head still turned to the side, the smallest flicker of movement caught my sight. A spider carefully constructing a silken web along the rough brick, the sounds it elicited catching my ear as if the sound were intensified. I had no explanation, only theories as to what type of world I had been sent to as punishment for my unintentional curse. My eyes closed tightly in an effort to drown the scraping sounds of the insect's legs against the stone, the sound reminding me of twigs snapping with applied weight.

Twigs snapping...

My mind ricocheted from one thing to another so quickly I thought I would fall ill. The man from my vision, the one laughing by a pile of limbs set aflame was running. He was a complete stranger to me, other than having seen him in my mind once prior, the image of him torturously confusing to me.

I fell still as I waited for the movement in my mind to come to a stop, though it refused. Unlike the two previous glimpses before this, it continued and allowed me to focus on small details. The man wore his hair long and pulled off his shoulders much in my earlier vision though in this specific image his clothing seemed dated in a time not my own. They were muddied and torn, unacceptable in the public's eye. He wore nothing on his feet, the snapping of the twigs clearly audible upon contact with the earth's floor.

The man bore a wide grin on his face as he ran through the wilderness like a savage animal, at a speed I was barely able to so much as comprehend. Following closely behind him was an equally as savage looking female with hair that licked the hair like red flames. The sight of her alone was enough to have me trembling in intimidation, the way the frightening male made sure to remain close to his running partner insured me of their protectiveness over one another, though I wasn't sure why I was being shown such things.

It wasn't just images I was able to gain from the odd predicament I found myself in, I was also able to feel the strongest emotion radiating off the two; longing. The couple longed for someone; they depended on that final member and were incomplete without them. For the briefest moment, I felt that incompleteness.

In a rapid flick, it was as if everything I was viewing had fast forwarded. The longing for something more no longer existed in my mind; it was replaced by a feeling of completion. A third party occupied my vision, a final member in the group already consisting of the man and woman of the flames. Their mouths moved in conversation, though I was unable to hear a single word.

The three wore new clothing now, articles of fabric I never dreamed nor wished to see on anybody, let alone savages. The female alone had so much skin exposed; she might as well have been one of the unfortunate woman working the busy city streets. The two men for the most part lounged shirtless, their broad chests coated in dried blood. The sight of the red substance caused me to tremble in a vague remembrance of my previous vision, myself resembling their physical state.

Another flash: This one taking me more by surprise than the last. I could feel a rush of primal instinct doused with the prospect of a game. The back of my throat burned, a driven thirst trying to take control of me with little avail. Instead of giving in, I continued to watch the images playing on through my mind.

A beautiful brunette: so ordinary yet so very spectacular. The clothing she wore was simply appalling, evidence of a future I did not want, nor desire to be a part of. A strange comfort washed over me as her scent from the vision continuing to play hit me. She smelled delicate and fragile. Floral, like freesia and in the briefest blink of my eyes, she was dead, devoured and lost from the world forever. The trio I had been following in my mind stood over the beautiful girl, tossing her limp and lifeless body to the ground carelessly all the while wiping her blood from their lips, and then they were gone.

My mind went blank, ridding of the horrible images that played in my mind over the past few minutes. I sat up from my lying position on the cold and wet ground, my chest heaving with anguished sobs. That girl, that ordinary nobody... I was attached to her in ways I didn't know possible. I had an imaginary friend, a figment of my imagination taken away from me which in any other case would have left me perfectly fine only now, I was more incomplete than I ever thought possible.

I wasn't sure how long I continued to allow myself to tearlessly cry – a feat which was fairly unusual. I blamed it on pure exhaustion in fear of the true explanation. The devil simply didn't grant tears to his prisoners.

I had lost a perfect stranger, though it felt as if I lost family. In my jumbled and thoroughly confused mind, I had been trying to piece every part of my visions together in hopes to find a resolution; in hopes to find a way to save the girl that brought me so much pain with her death. I had a nagging feeling that turned into a certainty that I was the cause of her death, I was the reason her life was taken. I had been covered in blood in one of my premonitions; I was linked to everything, despite knowing how or why. The only thing I knew was I didn't want to be the monsters the four other members of my visions turned out to be. It was then I decided to make a choice. I could succumb to the devil himself and continue to allow him to torment me for something I could not control, or I could fight back with everything I possessed.

I will not be broken.

With that single and undying thought in mind, I found the strength to pull myself up off the ground. Despite the heavy sobbing I had fallen victim to, I didn't find myself short of breath. I wasn't even the slightest bit exhausted. Perhaps I was being granted the upper hand for the time being, a head start.

I stumbled my way down the dark alley, the streets morbidly dark and dank – practically void of human life. The odd unfortunate combed through the streets in search of a few coins, willing to sacrifice their bodies for the next closest thing to a warm meal. A few older boys, not much older than fifteen counted coins in their hands, obviously up to no good with these women around at this late hour.

I was able to feel the ground beneath my feet perfectly. The shape of the rubble, the sensation of the wet dirt forcing me to realize I had been without shoes. Upon glancing down at my bare feet, I realized I was without proper attire as well, clothed in only what I assumed to be a poor excuse for hospital wear. I had no recollection of being in any sort of hospital or institute, forcing more unanswered questions into my head. Or perhaps this was the sorry excuse of clothing they buried you in nowadays...

My bare awfully pale legs were smudged with dirt, as were my arms and chest. I assumed it was primarily caused by my writhing in agony in the ally those long three days. Running a hand through my hair in search for whatever other flaws I could find, my hair fell shorter than what I had expected it to be, clearly cut at a much shorter length.

I hadn't a moment to ponder why on earth someone would do such a thing, when my eyes fell upon the woman of my dream. The pearls glistened on her pulsating neck. Her hair was pinned back in a sinful way that made my throat parched. Instantly the image of me covered in blood polluted my thoughts, causing me to clap my hand over my mouth to stifle a sob.

I had never felt such an overwhelming urge to hurt someone in all of my life. To sink my teeth into her luscious throat and drink every drop of the heavenly fluid that lay beneath. I wanted to hear her scream, to watch her beg me for her life. I wanted to toy with her in ways that would put Lucifer himself to shame. I wanted to kill her, as well as everybody else around me.

Despite what my instincts were screaming at me to do, I downright refused. I was not going to let myself fall victim to this new torture tactic. I was not going to give in and give God another reason to punish me.

I would not be broken.

And so I ran.


	3. Suspicions

**Authors Note:** Hi everyone! Just thought I'd take a quick moment to introduce myself. I'm Sarah, AKA /~SewwyChristine here at . I'll be taking on the chapters from Jasper's perspective. Shantel's writing style completely craps on mine, but here you go anyway.

By the way, I apologise in advanced if you find any British English spelling throughout the story. I've tried to Americanise it as much as I can, but occasionally a word will slip through...

_Twilight et cetera belongs to Stephenie Meyer ... But I doubt I really had to tell you that. ;)_

* * *

_Jasper's perspective_

_1946: 26 years later._

**Chapter 2: Suspicions**

August 16th. It was possibly the hottest day that Texas had seen for a good decade or two: It was the kind of heat that sent even my kind into a state of lethargy, a significant feat considering the perpetual awoken state we found ourselves in. The coven was stuck indoors, a clear result of the cloudless day: Maria and I had taken over the large acreage of farmland many moons ago after obliterating a smaller coven that had set up camp here. Our hoard of approximately thirty newborns plus Maria, a scarce few 'older' vampires, and myself had crept in during the wee hours of the morning, catching the coven of twenty-three utterly unprepared.

Thinking back on the memory, I stifled a laugh. The irony of the situation was that one of the members, a potty-mouthed, long haired girl who looked barely twenty, was a clairvoyant. Out of the twenty-three vampires that we'd managed to descend upon, she was the only one who got away. Be it cockiness or idiocy, I did not know, but whatever foresight she'd managed to achieve in the short span before our arrival had saved her from a life of servitude to Maria. Given the average lifespan of newborns in our group, she really was better off having run and hide.

Such a shame, too: A clairvoyant such as herself would have been a welcome member to the coven in Maria's mind.

It was one of the many, many memories I'd maintained from this war… A war that seemed to involve a constant battle for whom held the upper hand. We were close to holding that very position, though, as Maria kept reminding me: "Soon, Jasper," She'd comment, curling the J of my name into a Y sound like she always did whilst she'd rake her fingers lazily through my hair, knowing full well that both acts frustrated the Jesus out of me. "Soon, Texas shall be ours."

But how soon was soon? None of us could honestly say. I was growing impatient and increasingly suspicious of Maria and her actions. Over the past decade, my intuition had increased tenfold: Maria called it my ability, but I called it my curse. What had started out in my youngest hours as nothing but overwhelming guilt whenever I succumbed to my thirst or brought yet another human into the world of eternal sleeplessness, had quickly turned into an eerily correct estimation of the emotions they were feeling. After not long at all, it wasn't just a guess I was harboring: Instead, I simply _knew._ It wasn't even questionable the emotions that I was receiving from these victims, and I felt every one of them. Their feelings hit me in waves, and before long it was inescapable: Every person I came across, be it human or undead, transmitted their truest emotions straight to me as if it were lightening and I were the lone, tall, metallic post in an empty field: Completely and utterly inescapable.

It was tiresome. I often found myself deliberately avoiding the newborns or Maria, and even Peter, one of the young vampires I'd grown rather fond of due to his quick wit and his skill in the field, simply to escape the incessant battery of emotion that came part and parcel with company. Even more occasionally I found myself imparting my own feelings upon others. To begin with, it was accidental: I'd quickly realize that the entire room reflected my own uncomfortable emotions, a problem that only lead to bigger issues. On one such occasion, in the midst of my own frustrations and anger, I'd managed to inflict the very same emotions on a room of over twenty newborns. The end result was four dead, sixteen unsettled and very confused week old vampires, one destroyed barn and an infuriated Maria, who had very nearly taken my own head off: In fact, she probably would have if it weren't for the incredible benefits that my ability, no… my curse had to offer.

It was this particular day that seemingly changed something in Maria. I'd always been a bit of a toy to her, and had always known it. Yet despite this, we held a close companionship in which she trusted my judgments, I trusted hers, and together we worked to gain control of the state. But whilst she and I dealt with the remains of the four wasted newborns, Maria had pulled up a wall of epic proportions and worked actively to keep a distance from me. I quickly came to realize that she only seemed willing to come anywhere close to me, or my emotion-sensing curse, if she were capable of disguising any of her deeper or stronger feelings with a temporary façade: Lust being one of her favorites.

It wasn't just the constant bombardment of emotions that I felt that drained me so successfully, but the mindless chores that Maria had recently grown accustomed to setting me upon. It was almost as if she deliberately set me to these tasks to keep my ability distracted: One set of emotions from one individual was simple to interpret, but the force of a room full of emotions was another story. These distractions only ever seemed to benefit Maria: For one, it meant that it was someone other than herself doing her dirty work, and that by keeping me busy, surrounded by others, her emotions would be masked by the countless others around me.

Of course, it didn't entirely work like that, and I wasn't exactly prepared to tell her. What Maria failed to realise is that there were two things working to my advantage. The first: Most vampires, especially newborns, fail to show any real emotion other than hungry, royally pissed off, or somewhat of a lethal combination of the two that usually lead to my emotions reflecting disgustingly something similar. The second, and naturally the primary reason why I could never alert Maria to the true functioning of his ability, was the fact that after nearly a century of being around her, he could pick her emotions out of a crowd of thousands.

Lazily, I let the tattered book I was holding fall to rest spine up on my stomach, too lost in my own thoughts to really continue reading the poetry I'd grown so accustomed to: I'd read the collection of Frosts' works so many times that the book itself was almost obsolete, having memorized every word, front to cover. I would have liked to find myself another book to read, but suspicions were easily raised when you had to submit to thievery for clothing and entertainment on a regular basis: And considering that, at our current standings anyway, we were one of the larger newborn armies in the United States, it wasn't just one or two items we were stealing.

No, I was far too distracted for Frost today. Instead, I'd traveled back to a similar train of thought that I'd been focusing on for a fortnight; Maria's slowly changing attitude towards me and the coven was on my mind. For a few weeks now, I'd been catching snippets of her feelings, feelings that were a change from her usual, passionate and determined state of mind. I'd first felt the change about two weeks ago after a block of four or five days in which she'd been avoiding me entirely. When she'd finally come to speak to me (albeit, briefly: She'd barely stayed in the room thirty seconds with me before disappearing for two more days) the new emotion hit me full force. I'd never quite felt anything so devious, so sinister, or so corrupted in my life, and the thought was beyond concerning.

It piqued my curiosity and worried me intensely at the same time. What was she planning? More so, what was she planning that she had to keep from me? Not in the near eighty years it had been since she brought me into this life had she kept anything from me, nor had I ever given a reason to have to. Perhaps after all this time she was starting to show some compassion, having noted my clear discomfort in regards to certain situations?

Unlikely. This _was _Maria, after all.

In all honesty, I was simply kidding myself if I thought that Maria's recent actions and feelings involved anything that anyone in their right mind would consider good. 'Good' simply wasn't an adjective found in her dictionary, let alone an action her soul could comprehend. She was simply far too absorbed in her devious goals to waste time on acts such as compassion or friendliness. Her determination and goal-orientated mind were once features that I admired and praised her for: Now, they only seemed to come hand in hand with a more sinister frame of mind, and there was this nagging thought in the back of my mind, intuition if you will, that Maria's progressing evil was only bad news for me. Very bad news. Jasper-never-sees-the-light-of-day-again type bad news.

It was almost as if the devil could hear my thoughts, because at that precise moment, a deadly concoction of emotion flooded over me, dizzying me with feelings of determination, malice, and sheer unadulterated lust. The combination sent chills up and down my spine, and I quickly sat up in surprise, thankful that the woman was incapable of reading my thoughts or gauging my emotions. I'd barely been upright a split second before my eyes were being pierced by an overwhelmingly bright white light, the intensity of which could only be sourced by one thing …

"Oh, of all the sheer dumb-fuckery I've ever seen, Peter." I exclaimed, pulling myself off the haystack, Frost falling to the ground in a clatter as I stomped over to the producer of the glare, Peter, who lay in the stream of sunlight beaming through the single window of the barn. Grabbing him by the suspenders, I easily picked him up and somewhat threw him to his feet, shaking my head in half amusement.

"For the love of Jesus, son," I continued, staring the mousy-haired boy down. Of course, physically, he was only a year or so younger than myself, but mentally, I surpassed his age more than five times over: And in armies such as this one, with age came respect.

"Would you knock if off with the goddamned sparklin' and stay out of the sunlight? What are you trying to do, lure a human in here and start another feedin' frenzy!?" It really wouldn't have been the first time. I winced at the reminder of the last time a human found himself in too close a proximity to our dwelling and the obvious result. Contrary to his moronic tendencies, he was a good kid and a decent friend: Despite myself, I laughed once, slapping Peter upside the head. A few vampires laughed. Sheepishly, Peter's eyes flickered to one of newer members to the army, a short girl, whose red eyes shone with laughter as she attempted to stifle her giggles with a hand. Peter quickly looked away, and for the briefest of moments, I swore that if he were still human, his cheeks and ears would have been redder than Charlotte's eyes.

"Jasper," Maria's voice cooed from the doorway. I felt myself bombarded with another wave of her emotional cocktail and winced: A sinister deviousness laced with sheer determination laced with pure unadulterated lust: The combination was potent. It was clear to me how much she strived to focus on her desirous thoughts, all of which were clearly focused on me, in an attempt to shield her underlying emotions: Unbeknown to her, she wasn't as successful in that act as she may have wished.

"Jasper, I need to speak with you." She continued. Another wave of passion hit me and I furrowed my eyebrows in frustration. Peter merely cocked an eyebrow at me questioningly, pondering just why I'd not gone and joined Maria yet. Quickly, I shot him a look before snapping my head around to glance at Maria, nodding at her once before turning back to face peter.

"Watch the babies," I ordered him, referring of course to the newborns only a few weeks old. Curtly, I turned on my heel and began pacing towards Maria, ignoring the countless crimson eyes that followed me make my way through the room.

"Oh, and stay out of the bleedin' sun, Peter," I added without even so much as pausing or turning back to look at him. I smirked, mildly amused by his sudden gush of embarrassment which flowed from behind me. I didn't even bother waiting for an answer, knowing that he'd agree regardless, and into the second room of the barn. Walking straight past Maria without even a look towards her, instead I gazed out the open window, watching as the sun began to slip behind the tall trees a few miles away.

Taking a deep breath, I attempted to control my increasing discomfort at the swirling emotions within the room, all of which were elicited from the Spanish vixen behind me. If you had asked me a year ago, or even a mere month ago, I would have told you that I trusted Maria with my life. Ask me the same question today, and the answer would be entirely different. I wasn't entirely sure whether it was Maria who had changed, or perhaps me: Perhaps my ability had increased exponentially upon recent times, allowing me to gauge others' emotions with a higher degree of precision, but the fact of the matter was that I was growing increasingly apprehensive around her and beginning to second guess every mere aspect of our lives.

I contemplated subtly manipulating her emotions, more to relieve the stress it was placing upon myself rather than provide any benefit to Maria, but I quickly rethought that option, remembering the last time I'd forcefully moulded her feelings without so much as a warning. Upon realizing what I was doing, Maria had kicked up such a fuss, completely and utterly furious that I would forcefully 'violate' her in such a manner (as she so put it), that it was the first and only time I so much as attempted such a feat. Even in the fifty-odd years since, I'd not been game to test Maria again in such a fashion.

My breath caught in my throat as her fingers began to trace over the back of my neck and down my bare arms. I'd not bothered with anything other than an undershirt today, bothered by the stifling heat. Maria tugged at my suspenders, pulling them down off my shoulders so they hung loosely from my waist. Normally her light touches and gentle kisses would have been enough to make my mind spin, but today, her attempts were all in vain. Her underlying emotions were simply far too distracting, and I found my own thoughts entirely caught up in them, contemplating on the many potential reasons for just why she was attempting to be so secretive with her feelings and musings.

I shrugged her off. Not in the near century in which our lives had been seemingly entwined together had I denied her anything, yet here I was, stepping away from her touch and turning to glance at her through narrowed eyes. The effect was seemingly instantaneous: A new flood of emotion hit me, real emotion this time, a swirling mass of hurt, displeasure, confusion, but most of all, sheer anger. It was obvious how unimpressed by my rejection she was, but frankly, I was beyond caring. I was tired of being left in the dark, despite our apparent partnership.

"Fine," Maria seethed, glaring at me so intensely that her usually crimson irises darkened several shades in anger. Her nose puckered as she sneered, her fists tightly clenched. She stormed towards the doorway, throwing the slider open with a thunderous bang that startled a few of the newborns. I winced, knowing that the next few days would probably be hellish. For the briefest of moments, I mentally cursed myself for not just having submitted to her, but the thought really was brief: I was tired of having to do what Maria expected, rather than what I felt was appropriate, and considering our 'equal partnership' in this army, surely it was time for me to start making decisions for myself?

Almost as if to answer the question for me, Maria turned on her heel whilst sending a scalding glare my way, her mouth curled up into a devious smirk. I knew there was an order coming: There almost always was. I cocked my eyebrow at her expectantly, folding my arms lazily over my chest, simply waiting for the demands that Maria had become so predictable for.

" We cull the useless ones tonight," She practically snarled at me, turning once again and heading out the doorway. She'd made it halfway to the large doors at the other end of the barn before her loud, high pitched voice rang through the large building again. "Oh, and by we, I mean you."


End file.
